


A Favour From The Empty

by luxwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coda, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxwrites/pseuds/luxwrites
Summary: !!!SPOILERS!!!His mind was just a silent series of exclamation points and Cas's face over and over and over again. When Sam tried to ask what happened, it was all Dean could do not to crumple to the floor right there and then. His best friend, his confidant, the one person who had always been there too listen. This was the first time in a decade that Dean felt well and truly... Alone.Basically, a happy ending to this shitstorm of sadness. Let Dean And Cas Be Happy And In Love.Comments sustain me, pls feed the hungry fic writer?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 213





	A Favour From The Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the poor formatting, this was supposed to be 300 words and then exploded and I wrote it all on my phone. If anything's really out of wack, gimme a shout and I'll fix it ASAP.

Dean sat with his back against the cold brick wall for what could have been hours, but was probably only about the thirty minutes it took for Sam and Jack to drive to the bunker and search every room before they found him. With Sam on one side and Jack on the other, Dean shakily rose to his feat. He could feel the marks in his back where the brick had dug in.  
They walked him back to the main room, but his feet dragged like lead. His mind was just a silent series of exclamation points and Cas's face over and over and over again.  
When Sam tried to ask what happened, it was all Dean could do not to crumple to the floor right there and then. His best friend, his confidant, the one person who had always been there too listen. This was the first time in a decade that Dean felt well and truly... Alone.  
As it was, Dean barely managed to sit down in a chair at the table. Sam and Jack were looking at him expectedly. He had to say something. The world was still ending. He couldn't collapse in on himself, not yet. He'd had the thirty minutes in alone to grieve, that would have to be enough for now.  
"Dean-" Sam started.  
"Cas is gone, Sammy." Dean couldn't help but say it in an almost-whisper, like if he said it too loud it would make it more true. "He's not coming back. He's gone."  
Jack was the first to react. He stood straight up in the chair, staring at Dean, took a step away from the table, took a step back, and then sat down hard with a "hff." For some reason, this particular reaction struck Dean as hilarious. He noticed with a frown that a smile was creeping its way onto his face and, pretty soon, he was howling with laughter.  
"I don't understand what's funny about this situation, Dean," Jack's monotone voice just made Dean laugh harder. He felt sick for it, but couldn't stop.  
"It's just-" he wheezed, "that- that we're about - HA - to fight fucking GOD - ahahaha - and THIS is when we lose him? Ha, we have literally no one in our corner, and now, haha, we lose our angel??? Hahaha, our GUARDIAN FUCKING ANGEL?"  
And suddenly Dean is crying again. And Sam is there. And Jack is there. And they're all crying together. Because there should be one more of them, and because there isn't.

***

It wasn't long after that they found the other way to kill Chuck. There was always another way, always, and all it took was a little help from a friend. Well... A friend's notebook, to be precise. Actually, a couple of friends' notebooks.  
Bobby, Rowena, and Colt had all written about a specific and strange sigil they'd seen in their travels. It had seemed mundane to them, but the consistency was what Sam had picked up on. There were no coincidences when God was writing your life story. 

The sigil turned out to be an ancient word meaning something along the lines of peace in a mindful and mindless state. Combined with a few common herbs, and the right location, it was a surprisingly simple solution. Kevin would have said a solution akin to the elegance of string theory. 

They chose a small garden, not far from the temple. A large oak tree stood at the centre, long grass crowding the base of its trunk, squirrels running along its branches. The wildflowers grew in scattered patches around the tree, their pinks and yellows and blues and purples bright against the yellowing grass. The sun was low on the horizon, at golden hour. It seemed that every molecule of the earth had poured its beauty into this very place at this very moment. 

Chuck arrived with his usual flourish, having planned his finale to a T. He hadn't expected the Winchester brothers would consider something... Non-violent.  
He'd been ready to turn them against each other one final time, to revel in the blood and glory of this final chapter of the story.  
He hadn't been expecting the Winchesters to offer him peace. He hadn't been expecting them to have discovered such a simple spell, one he hadn't even noticed, one that had slipped through the cracks. What was it authors always said about characters? That they end up making their own decisions in the end, if they were well-written?  
This simple sygil was the one way to undo god without killing him. To put it at its most core components, it disassembled god from his consciousness, and redispersed him throughout the world. No longer a living, conscious author, rather a subconscious influence.  
Years of observing humanity had fostered a hunger inside of Chuck, a desperation, an addiction to pain and suffering. It would have been difficult for anyone to watch people tear each other apart, but for the very creator of those people... As the one who created man, who loved man above all... Watching his creations destroy each other for Millenia, over and over, had been too much for even God to bear. He had stopped seeing the beauty, stopped seeing the joy. From his perch a million miles away, he had seen only the pain.  
When the deed was done, as God could feel his consciousness slip away, he suddenly saw again the beauty of the world he'd created. A bee landed gently on the head of a wildflower, its body comically large for its small wings, and then took flight again. A squirrel leapt to a new branch above in the oak tree. The grass soaked in the warmth from the last few days of sunshine. As he came apart, Chuck found he could once again breathe as part of his creation, could feel it's scars, and more importantly it's joy and hope and love and peace. 

It happened in a mere moment for Sam, Dean, and Jack. One moment, Chuck was there, the next, they could hear astounded voices all around them, coming from all the people who had suddenly reappeared from wherever they'd gone. 

***

Sam had found Eileen back at her house. As soon as the people had started reappearing, they had raced back in the impala. And there Eileen had stood, looking slightly frantic, hands flying as she spoke with her neighbours. Dean could have sworn he'd never seen someone run so fast as when Eileen had caught sight of Sam.  
Jack and Dean had stayed back.  
"Maybe-"  
"Don't." Dean couldn't let himself go there.  
They stood silently as they watched the world reconnect around them. 

Sam brought Eileen back to the bunker. Wasn't much point trying to keep either of them apart. They talked the entire ride, both of them in the backseat, huge grins adorning their faces. Dean couldn't help the small smile that crept in his own, just seeing Sam so happy. 

***

Walking into the bunker, a wave of exhaustion hit Dean so hard he suddenly found himself clutching the railing of the stairs as he descended them.  
"Woah, hey, you alright?" Sam, immediately by his side.  
"Hmm?" Dean could feel his eyelids wanting to fall. "M'fine. I'm good."  
He barely made it down the stairs without tripping over his own feet.  
"Dean, I think you should get some rest..." Sam's concern was coming from a good place, Dean knew. But he also knew if he didn't get a moment to himself, he was going to evaporate right then and there in the middle of the room. He needed to cry. And he needed his best friend.  
It was Eileen who gently lay a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll come get you when dinner is ready, OK?"  
Dean managed a small smile, and nodded, and proceeded to walk towards the other stairs.  
"Hey, your bed's the other way," Sam started.  
"I know," Dean almost growled out.  
He could feel the moment Sam understood, and even worse he could feel the pity as it descended into the room.  
So he left, took the stairs carefully, until he finally got to that room behind storage. The dungeon, as they'd so aptly named it upon its discovery.  
Dean let his back hit the cool brick of the wall once again, and slid back down to sit on the cement. And cried. And cried. And cried.  
Eventually, exhaustion pulled him into sleep.  
Much like before, he didn't know how long he'd been there, but Eileen, Sam, and Jack seemed to arrive much quicker than he'd have liked. They each carried a paper plate of food. Sam had a blanket under his arm. Jack had some candles and an old projector.  
"Hey..." Dean mumbled, wincing at the pain in his neck from sitting at such an odd angle.  
"We have brought dinner," Jack announced brightly. "I cooked the bread. Well, I guess toasted it is more precise. Sam cooked the burgers."  
"Thought maybe we could have a movie night?" Sam asked hesitantly.  
Dean's gaze shifted to the spot in the wall where the empty had come through, "yeah. Yeah, okay."  
They all say and watched some old classic the men of letters must have left lying around. By the very end, the plates were empty, and a few beer bottles too, and all of them were sat close together, Sam and Eileen at the centre, with Jack and Dean on either side. They'd all lost a lot, but at least this moment, this right here, was warm and full of love and joy.  
Thinking of love sent a pang through Dean. He missed Cas. Not for the first time, he cursed himself out for not saying it back. He couldn't help staring at the patch of wall that had sucked Castiel into the empty. For a brief moment, he could have sworn he saw... Something... He brushed it off. The mind was a powerful thing, but wishful thinking was going to make this better.  
Just as Sam started suggesting they begin clearing up, Dean saw it again out of the corner of his eye. A flicker of darkness. Almost like noticing a blind spot for the first time. He whipped his head back to the patch of wall.  
"Dean? You... Okay?"  
Dean couldn't help the huff of surprised laughter that escaped him, "Oh Sammy, I am very far from okay, but that's for another time. Something's there." He pointed at the wall.  
Sam looked concerned, "Dean, I don't-" he'd barely gotten the words out before it happened again, this time more prominent. Sam's stare turned to equal parts wariness and curiosity.  
Dean's phone began to ring. Unknown number. With a shaking hand, he answered it.  
"'lo?" He asked.  
"Ah there's that sweet Winchester voice," Dean could feel his fists clench as he heard Meg- well, what used to be Meg's voice.  
"What do you want?"  
The voice on the other end chuckled. "Always up for a fight, aren't we? Well. Not today. I'm not calling you to fight. I'm actually calling with a thank-you gift. I know, too sweet of me, but I've always been a very amiable gal."  
Dean stood and made his way over to rifle through the weapons he'd doffed earlier. His fingers closed around the angel dagger. Sam was also on high alert, and he tossed him the demon blade.  
"Ah-ah," the voice chided, "Not a wise choice boys. This gift is going to need a lot more love and care than either one of those little sticks can give it."  
Dean gripped the dagger's hilt tighter.  
"Why would you do anything for us?" Dean's voice was loud in the room, louder than he'd expected.  
"You really don't know?" The darkness sounded genuinely surprised.  
"Know... What?" Sam asked.  
The darkness laughed, "you boys, you're too good. You're little spell? Well, it made everything nice and peaceful up there again. Everything, and everyone, is back in their place. And because it's quiet up there, it's pretty nice and quiet again down here. I'm about to have the best sleep of my everlasting life, thanks to you two. And, well, I suppose, it couldn't hurt to make just one more thing a little quieter too."  
"What on earth is she talking about?" Dean could see Sam mouth at him.  
"Oh, you'll find out in a moment, Sammy-boy," the darkness chided. "I'm doing you a favour, trust me- well... maybe don't. But don't get used to it at any rate, no more favours after this. And dont. Wake me up. Again. Anyway, naptime's a-calling. Bye boys."  
The line went dead. A moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.  
And then a horrific cracking noise as the same patch of wall that had swallowed Cas split down the middle, an increasingly bright light emanating through, encompassing the gap, widening it, growing and growing until-  
"Close your eyes." A familiar voice echoed off the walls, and they all did as they were told.  
When Dean opened his eyes again, blinking away pinpricks of light, he couldn't help but fall to his knees at the sight before him.  
Castiel- his Cas- stood in all his glory; trenchcoat, backward tie, crooked smile, and sparkling blue eyes. He stared down at Dean for a moment.  
"Hello Dean."  
Dean wasn't going to be able to stand, so he was glad when Cas came over and knelt down too. He found his hands of their own accord reaching out to touch, to quantify, to confirm that yes, this is Cas, and yes, he's really here. His hands touched solid fabric. The wood and lilac smell that trailed Cas wherever he went filled Dean's nose.  
"C-as?" He hadn't realized he'd started crying again. At this rate, he'd need to drink at least another five beers just to refill his tear ducts.  
Cas smiled and gripped Dean's right shoulder, covering the spot on Dean's jacket still covered in the bloody handprint.  
"I'm here."  
Dean couldn't help the laughing sob that burst out of him before he leapt at the angel, wrapping him in an aggressively tight hug for a solid minute before pulling back suddenly.  
Cas immediately frowned, obviously concerned something was wrong.  
"Cas," Dean brought his hands to Castiel's face. "I love you," was all he said before he closed the distance between them.  
It was a moment before Dean heard the shuffling behind him. Right, he thought, Sam, Jack and Eileen are all still here. In this room. Watching me kiss an angel.  
Feeling a little sheepish, he finally turned around, one hand still gripping tight to Castiel's trench coat. Even he could feel the ridiculous grin on his face, and he could feel it grow even bigger as he felt Cas' arm wrap around his back.  
"Hey guys, Cas is back," was all Dean could get out before he was laughing again at the pure joy of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I like happy endings, I hope this one was happy for you too! :) I've just recently started watching the final season for old time's sake and I've gotten reinvested so quickly. 
> 
> Anywho, feed the hungry fix writer with a comment if ya like?


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